


Crazy Weather

by patofbutter306



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Aftercare, Belly Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, Humiliation, M/M, Weight Gain, in that order, this is fluffy then kinky then fluffy again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:00:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26608642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patofbutter306/pseuds/patofbutter306
Summary: Okay so hear me out.. Ferdinand gets stuck in a wall. But it's fine, you know, it's fi-
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 15
Kudos: 73





	Crazy Weather

**Author's Note:**

> Don't read this if the tags don't make you go brrrrrrr lmao
> 
> Titled for my buddies who will love the wordplay, there is no crazy weather in this fic I just didn't have a title
> 
> In Summary: Ferdibert wg/belly kink and stuck-in-a-wall sex, they're together and into it and they have a safe escape, I love magic, aftercare is important for the dom too

"Keep up, slow folks!"

"It's slowpokes, Petra! She's right though- get moving, boys!"

Petra and Dorothea skip ahead, hand-in-hand down the aisles of the grand stage at Mittelfrank, dazzling even with no light other than a warm glow from a lantern Dorothea swings carelessly in her unoccupied hand.

Ferdinand glances over at Hubert, who seems to share his contentedness to wander more slowly, taking everything in while basking in the not-quite-sober haze of the evening. Dorothea's light casts long shadows over the hundreds of seats before the stage.

From this angle, Ferdinand supposes, one would see a completely different angle to a performance. Every tear shed, every obvious crinkled eye under layers of theatre makeup, every bead of sweat on a diva's collarbone as she delivers a heart-wrenching ballad. He had never liked opera glasses - preferred to take in the atmosphere of the room as well as the performance itself, the reactions of the people below, gasps and applause, the relationship between actor and audience.

He had never been allowed to sit at stage level; his father dismissed the idea with an incredulous tone that spoke to his hatred of the common people who carried his livelihood on their backs. 

Hubert's hand squeezes his softly as they reach the front row and he gestures for Ferdinand to take a seat near the right wing. The doors to access backstage are presently ignored as Petra gives Dorothea a masterful boost up onto the stage, lantern thrown up first to light the way. They all share a laugh as Dorothea struggles with her part of the climb, Petra eventually shoving her forward by her behind as she shrieks with laughter.

Ferdinand feels cozy and warm with Hubert settled into the seat beside him and the chair arms hugging his sides securely. There was another time he'd focus on just how tightly they were closing in on his soft hips lately, but for now he leans his head over into the slender arm that curls around his shoulders, content to feel happy and loved and surrounded by friends.

"Hubert, hah, help! Dorothea is not-"

"-I am SO strong enough, Petra, just give me a moment and I'll- oops!"

Petra's attempts to climb up the smooth stage wall with only Dorothea's hand to assist her thwarted, Hubert shifts Ferdinand and rises to help.

He offers a shoulder and a hand under her boot, boosting her up next to Dorothea and watching the pair collapse in a giggling, cursing heap. Petra stands with a dramatic flourish while Dorothea collects herself.

"Oh, whatever shall I do, the evil witch has me completely at her mercy, I cannot esc- AH, DOROTHEA-"

She yelps as Dorothea snags her leg and pulls her down to the floor again, an exaggerated cackle on her lips. Hubert backs away from the stage again, laughing softly and Ferdinand pulls him down by his side while the two lovers play-fight drunkenly on the most sacred stage in Fodlan.

"You were- hah, stop I am- HAH- I am easily tickled, you were supposed to be the hero who saves me!"

"Not a chance, Petra dear; you know the hero's never the most interesting role, and I'm a professional! Now come here, _my pretty!"_ Her voice shifts to a nasally sneer, and Petra dissolves into laughter again as she renews her assault on the princess's exposed sides.

In all the commotion, Hubert pulls Ferdinand in with an arm around him and kisses the side of his head, staying put after a moment to linger and breathe dozily against warm curls. Ferdinand sighs and happily thinks of the excitement on Dorothea's face earlier that evening, when Hubert had produced an ancient-looking key from his desk drawer in the middle of a drinking game between the two ministers and the small but mighty delegation from Brigid.

_"Hubert, is that-"_

_"A key to the most historic, well-preserved and secured architectural marvel in Enbarr, which is closed to the public and even to government officials outside of performance hours but not to the clever and wicked spymaster of our beloved emperor with his many connections? A perfectly suitable candidate for fulfilling your dare for me to 'loosen up for once', Thea dear?"_

_"Hubie, you're a talkative drinker, anyone ever tell you that?"_

_"-you CANNOT be suggesting that we would so besmirch the hallowed halls of Mittelfrank with our drunken shenanigans. Imagine if we were caught! The scandal- two ministers, foreign royals, the shame on the cabinet-"_

_"Ferdinand, all of these things you are describing are making this only seem like a better and better idea."_

_"Why, Petra, breaking rules tonight? Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?"_

_"I may need to be reminded, Dorothea, you know how strongly I am affected by Fodlan liquor."_

_"That settles it then. We'll leave immediately- Dorothea, collect those bottles while I send a message to redirect unwelcome traffic around our target."_

_" I am not breaking into the oldest and most valuable artistic institution in the entire Empire just to fulfil this CHILDISH drinking game -"_

_"Ferdie dear, have a sip of this, you're working yourself up and you know you're excited to see it too. You've been going to Mittelfrank for ages, and even_ _Edie hasn't seen it after hours. Here, have a cookie too, you liked these ones best."_

 _"So Edelgard hasn't-…Fine. Also, you are correct, these are incredible. Petra, when we do eventually visit Brigid I swear I am going to come home heavy enough to sink the boat, the food in the South must be_ _simply without peer. Hub- oh, are you finished sending messages? Hubert, you must remember to get this recipe from Petra when we are not so otherwise occupied, they would be such a delightful addition to teatime. In fact, maybe we could-"_

_"-Distracting me won't work, Ferdinand, I bet my best Interpret talisman on this game. Dorothea, ready? I've rerouted some touring parties so that we won't be caught on our way in or out. There's only the risk of Mittelfrank's private security: we should be able to avoid them, but I must impress the precariousness of the situation on you all. We are completing a mission of espionage that requires subtlety, grace, and hopefully only the slightest amount of luck. I will expect each of you to be exceedingly careful w-"_

_"-Huuuuuuuubert, shhhhhhh. You are a very scary spy man, yes, we believe you. Can we GO?"_

_"Petra, I wasn't finished-"_

As Dorothea and Petra's voices travel away behind the curtain to explore, he remembers the remaining imported confections he had made Hubert stash into his comparatively more functional coat pockets and slides a hand across his lover's waist to dig for the hidden snacks. He grabs one, then two upon further consideration, while Hubert hums against his hair knowingly.

"Are you hungry, Ferdinand?"

"Please Hubert, I am positively wasting away, is it not obvious?"

He says this in a falsely-haughty tone, his pout breaking into a laugh as Hubert's right hand reaches down to poke him playfully in his round belly. The finger sinks in a couple inches even with several layers of fabric in the way.

"Either way, you look absolutely delectable, my darling."

Hubert's deep hum at his ear as the poke turns into a strong grasp has Ferdinand leaning his head back with a contented sigh, closing his eyes and relishing in the touch and the delicious snacks. The hand explores his body tenderly, pushing between the far armrest and his plush side, feeling the pressure between the two even as Ferdinand is leaning to his right to be close as possible to Hubert's embrace.

"This is a bit of a tight fit, hm?"

His body shifts slightly so that he can reach down to where Ferdinand's hip and thigh bulge out slightly against the confines of the chair, his ass spreading widely underneath him and filling the available gap.

Ferdinand simply turns his head for a kiss and basks in the attention.

He knows Hubert finds the ample fat settling on his frame fascinating, especially when not a single Vestra has been able to carry an extra pound in the known history of the house.

Knows his family by comparison is prone to excess, having grown up in the presence of enough round bellies and generous hips, and having struggled himself since adolescence to maintain a general's physique against his body's insistent desire to soften.

Knows more privately and intimately that he himself finds this strangely intoxicating: the implication that he may soon outgrow these comparatively utilitarian seats reserved for less privileged folk; the tinge of shame at the proof of his overindulgence as a wealthy official; the relief in the knowledge that the people are happy, that no army needs his command, that there is no sin in enjoying simple pleasures like the sweets that are rapidly disappearing from Hubert's pocket.

He thanks his lucky stars that the boxes have larger and softer chairs, seats for two, couches to lounge on if requested, and anything else for the Prime Minister of Adrestia, one of Mittelfrank's most generous and engaged patrons.

Hubert is kissing his neck now, nipping where he knows Ferdinand's cravat would cover any marks on the soft skin, and Ferdinand finds himself less and less able to maintain a measure of dignity when cold hands are reaching under his jacket and waistcoat to firmly grope a plump breast through his shirt.

Fortunately for his composure's sake, Dorothea cackles joyfully from somewhere backstage and they are pulled out of their bubble. When the two women emerge onto the stage again and the two men are arranged in a more dignified position, Dorothea urges them to follow to see the inner bowels of the opera house.

"You must see, both of you, come along!"

Ferdinand has gotten a little sleepy since they arrived, several drinks still coursing their way through his system, but his excitement at seeing where the cast and crew prepare such amazing performances has his eyes wide as he uses one armrest and Hubert's offered hand to hoist himself out of his seat.

\------------------

"Go on ahead, I'll try to divert their attention, all of you!"

Hubert's urgent whisper cuts through their rather sobering panic as they sneak across a hallway to the locked garden gate, which Petra picks open with Dorothea's hair clip. "The wall might still be crumbled near the Rose Street exit- they'll likely have all the guards looking for us in the building now so it's worth a try, _just go, Ferdinand._ "

One imploring look later Ferdinand is turning to dash after Petra and Dorothea into Mittelfrank's vast gardens, knowing Hubert is much more likely to intimidate the guards into silence if he was caught alone.

He grumbles internally as he jogs across the lawn, panting already from their earlier retreat out of the backstage; one unfortunate incident with a prop suit of armour and his own _blasted_ curiosity, that's all it had taken to draw attention and put them in this frankly juvenile situation.

There's more urgency to Petra and Dorothea's speed, the reality of their position crashing down harshly and forcing their feet to move faster across the mossy cobblestones than Ferdinand could hope to keep up with even in fighting shape.

Following their voices, he ducks through a hedge after glimpsing the top of the wall on the other side that looked as deteriorated as Hubert had described. By some miracle, there are several small gaps where stone has crumbled showing the alleyway on the other side. Dorothea's bright dress is disappearing through one around hip-height that looks slightly larger than all the others.

Her head pops back through for a moment to check for Ferdinand, who whispers urgently to her "Go, Thea. I am waiting here for Hubert. I will follow momentarily."

She gives him a look but follows orders, disappearing again.

Reconsidering for a moment based on the likelihood that he would be caught while waiting for Hubert to sneak out this way, he decides to at least get out to the alleyway so they can move quickly if Hubert uses this exit to flee.

Ferdinand eyes the gap warily, but hears a far-off yell that cuts through the quiet evening from the entrance of the opera house and decides this isn't the time to be thinking of how dusty his jacket is going to get from the endeavor.

Petra and Dorothea are already halfway down the path on the other side, muffling their laughter and running full-tilt to avoid any militia out this late on the streets of Enbarr. The hedge and fence across the alley tells him they are close to the park in the city center.

He angles his shoulders and slides through, hands outstretched and ready to brace to propel him forward. There is a moment when he thinks he's in the clear, just a little further, and his confidence swells as he gives his hands a firm shove against the wall, pulling him forward and-

-and he doesn't move.

And he's still not moving.

He gives his hips a wriggle. Tries to move. Can't move. Only his torso, a little farther than his shoulders, had been able to fully pass through, the wall thick and hard and wrapped tightly around the largest part of his belly.

He tries to back out, sucking in as much as he can with a belly full of dinner and cookies and wine. He doesn't budge, succeeding only in pushing his chest higher up towards his face. His feet are still on the ground on the other side of the wall, and he can feel the chilly air on his lower back where his coat and shirt have ridden up from all his squirming. His belly feels squashed, the part behind the wall hanging down slightly and fighting for space between his thighs and the hard stone.

He tries to turn, lift his chest so that he can pivot to the higher part of the gap, maybe be able to angle himself differently to pull out. Unfortunately, there's not enough space for him to maneuver in. Settling back into his earlier position he thinks that he may be further stuck than when he started.

Movement. Footsteps on the other side of the wall behind him. There's no time, he can't move, he can't be caught like this-

"-Ferdinand! I led them away, had an underling pose as a thief near the entrance. They shouldn't find- …"

Hubert's voice, although it's a relief to Ferdinand's panicked ears, cuts off suddenly as it nears.

"… Ferdinand. Are you…?" He's right behind him now, inches away. Ferdinand turns his head enough to see him through a thinner gap above, his lover's mouth agape in shock.

"Well? Do not just stand there, help me!" He squirms a bit again, trying to make any headway at all.

"How… how did you…"

"I am _stuck_ , Hubert, I was too big for the gap and I tried to get through and now I cannot _move,_ so _help me_!"

He tries to move again in his frustration and manages to squirm his shirt free of his trousers. The previously-restrained lower part of his belly plops out, pale and exposed. To his knowledge, Hubert has not moved a muscle since setting eyes on the situation.

"Pull my- ugh, what a predicament, Hubert, could you pull my shirt down?" His face is red and sweating now despite the cool evening, and Hubert moves quickly to cover Ferdinand's hanging belly with his shirt again, his hands lingering in a way that makes Ferdinand flush a little more.

He looks back to see that Hubert is quite red as well, his eyes dark and intense. When Ferdinand meets his gaze with a curious look, Hubert very obviously snaps out of some inner thought and clears his throat before beginning to dig in his pockets hastily. Ferdinand, knowing Hubert well enough to realize why he is so distracted, lets out a shocked laugh that the other man pointedly ignores.

"I - I should have something - a Warp sigil, the risk is minimal with so much of - so much of you on either side."

His voice cracks slightly, and Ferdinand is even more curious than before as to how much this is affecting the other man. He continues rambling at a very uncharacteristic speed, which Ferdinand knows to be an indicator of Hubert trying to distract himself.

"-tested for a similar situation, and the barrier only reaches to the limits of the physical building, so - ah, here." His hand leaves the coat pocket where Ferdinand had stashed snacks earlier, producing a small charm, dark iron with the Warp sigil engraved into its face.

He hears Hubert pause for another long moment, the charm tinkling against its chain as he toys with it.

Facing the street in front of him again to save his neck the strain from peering over his shoulder, he can imagine that far away look in Hubert's eyes from before. The thought makes him feel warm against the cold stone, butterflies pooling in his belly.

He thinks of Hubert's grip on his sides back in the theatre, his fascination with Ferdinand filling out the narrow seats. Thinks of all the times they've enjoyed Hubert's gentle teasing, of being driven to desperation by Hubert's words alone as he comments on Ferdinand's patented ability to turn food into added pounds. 

_"This is a bit of a tight fit, hm?"_

Feeling his cheeks redden again in a much more pleasant way, he halts his imagination in its tracks to focus on Hubert now arranging the Warp charm at the small of his back. His self-indulgent side forces him to interrupt Hubert's prepared incantation.

"Wait."

"- Hm?"

"As a point of clarification, this charm will allow you to Warp me out of this predicament to safety at will, should we be discovered?"

"…The charm is calibrated to our apartments, I bring it with me always in case of emergency."

There is silence, Ferdinand contemplating his approach, Hubert likely very confused.

He takes a leap, hoping Hubert will catch him as he so often knows how to do in these situations. When he speaks next, his voice takes on an apologetic pout.

"I _know_ it was foolish to rearrange things in your pockets without your knowledge, Hubert, and I am terribly sorry now, but all of those pesky charms were taking up too much space! Where else would I have stored the required provisions for this outing? Flames, _how_ are we going to get me out of this mess?"

Hearing no immediate confirmation that he was being understood, he shifts his hips side to side and grunts to enhance the effect of his fake struggling. Bending his knees a bit to bounce down and then up, he succeeds in pitching the Warp charm off his back and into the grass below.

He cranes his neck back to assess Hubert's reaction. His green eyes are hooded, lips parted until he swallows and steps into the narrative Ferdinand is proposing. Ferdinand feels him move more directly behind him, out of his view, and the excitement intensifies.

"Leicester for caution, Faerghus and I'll have us back home and safe in an instant. You were right about this outing - I'm not taking any further risks tonight Ferdinand, understood?"

"Leicester for caution, Faerghus to go home. You listen for movement in the gardens, I will have plenty of warning if someone comes down the street."

He pauses, wiggles his ass playfully a little to show Hubert he knows he is safe.

"…I just see no reason why we should not…end this evening on a positive note, so to speak, hm? Go on, a little teasing, a little touching - let us take advantage of the rather interesting predicament I find myself in here."

They've both learned from mistakes over the years: moments where Ferdinand would ask Hubert to speak or act too harshly and Hubert would begin to feel uncomfortable being so cruel towards him; narratives that demanded such a shift in character and strength of acting prowess that it was simply unrealistic to continue playing the game while stifling laughter; situations like these that began as thrilling but moved a bit too close to dangerous for either of their comfort.

"You wouldn't be in this mess in the first place if it were possible for you to forgo eating for a few short hours, darling."

His tone is gentle, not yet fully submerged into the scene, and Ferdinand hears this caution and knows Hubert would back out at a moment's notice given how vulnerable he was making himself. Still, he feels a thrill go through him at the words, and goes for an indignant response.

"Well, I certainly do not know what you could be referring to," he huffs, "this was entirely an accident- my coat is caught on the stone, that is all." He moves again for emphasis, forcing himself to budge forward a smidge and feeling his belly squish against the wall harder.

"No?" Hubert's voice is darker, the menacing slick of it going straight to the junction of Ferdinand's thighs. "I believe the cause to be something different entirely, if you'll allow me to explain."

"Fine, explain your theory. But if you could do that while _helping me out of this hole_ , I would be very grateful."

"Hm. It is simple, Ferdinand. I believe our dear Prime Minister has been overindulging at too many feasts lately."

"…You - forgive me, but you will have to elaborate." Ferdinand stutters as Hubert's hands land on his hips, their strong grip beginning to knead his doughy sides.

"Has your mind grown as soft and lazy as your body? It is obvious. You have gotten fat, Ferdinand. Too fat to be slipping through gaps in the garden wall by far."

Ferdinand barely stifles a groan when this is punctuated by Hubert pressing his hips against Ferdinand's ass, his cock hard in his pants and the force pushing Ferdinand forward. His eyes roll back at the pressure this puts on his lower belly, crowding his thighs and giving him a warm plush cushion to nudge his cock against.

He collects himself enough to speak, breathlessly but hopefully still intelligible.

"W-well I never, the - the suggestion that I-"

"That you spend hours in a day eating, that you never miss a chance to stuff yourself full until you cannot take another bite?"

"I- you have no right to-" Ferdinand whimpers, grinding himself against belly fat that is too soft to relieve the ache and biting his lip to prevent moaning louder.

Hubert does not relent, his words interrupted by labored breaths as he continues.

"-That you've been fitted for new jackets and waistcoats and pants _\- Flames,_ " he grunts, tugging at Ferdinand's pants to expose his ass, full and round and spilling over the waistband now tight around his thighs, "-thrice in as many months, claiming you've taken an interest in new fashions when it's clear you'd be bursting buttons and seams if you continued in your old sizes? That you've grown plump and soft like a good noble, sitting at a desk and feeling your ass spill further - _fuck, Ferdinand -_ across your chair by the day?"

Grinding firmly against Ferdinand now, he lands a slap on his bare ass, keeping his hand in place where it lands and gripping hard enough to bruise.

Ferdinand moans and hears Hubert's belt being undone, and then the heat of his cock is sliding roughly against his cheeks and Hubert is gasping a curse under his breath. He tries to push back against it, moving his feet forward to use the wall as leverage. His hands are occupied digging under several layers of clothing to touch himself - his neck, rounded into a double chin from the cramped position, breasts, puffy and sensitive at their peaks, and arms, rigid muscle long gone soft and replaced with tender fat that Hubert loves to pinch appraisingly.

He loses himself in the feeling, panting hard and whining unrestrainedly as he tugs at his own nipples. The rising pleasure is interrupted when he feels a sharp pinch at his side.

"Quiet now, do you want to be discovered?" Hubert says softly, his breathing labored. Ferdinand hums in response, focuses on the heat that's now spit-slick and trapped between his plush thighs.

"Two fingers."

Ferdinand huffs a little at the demand but complies, stuffing his mouth full, breathing hard through his nose and sucking to prevent himself from making more noise.

There are hands exploring his exposed belly, pushing underneath his clothes and dislodging them further. When Hubert hears the stifled sucking and grunting coming through the wall, he brings a hand back to rub and knead at Ferdinand's ass, humming approval and continuing to bury himself in Ferdinand's thighs.

"Hmm…good boy, Ferdinand. So used to stuffing your face, it just comes naturally, yes? Always need something in your mouth, always need to be fed. A happy glutton."

Ferdinand just sucks harder, and his hips jerk forward to give his cock something more to slide against, but there's not enough belly to engulf him fully and he whimpers at how sore and tight he feels.

A sympathetic tut sounds behind him, and Ferdinand stutters as the welcome heat pulls out from between his thighs and Hubert groans at the loss of sensation. Hubert stays near, a hand on his hip reassuringly, but Ferdinand can't tell where he's moved until fingers crawl across his thigh to tap against his cock, and another hand grips the lower roll of his belly to push it harder against his length.

"Look at you, so desperate. Go on. Rut yourself off, be a good boy."

Ferdinand's answering moan is loud even through the barrier of his fingers between his lips, and his hips move more desperately to no avail. He finds himself wishing there were more of him, more for Hubert to touch, more to shove his cock against, more trapping him in place and pooling out either side of the gap.

His mouth gasps open, fingers touching his lips instead.

"Hubert," he pants, "I need- I, I need-"

"Not fat enough, are you? Not yet, at least. Don't worry, Ferdinand, at this rate I'll be rolling you to council meetings come Horsebow Moon. You'll be able to grind your cock into your own belly without anyone even noticing. Would you like that, darling?"

Ferdinand is forced to clamp a hand over his mouth at the suggestion, the fantasy of himself so round and heavy and the filthy suggestion of pleasuring himself in such an obscene way bringing him closer to the edge. Hubert swears again when Ferdinand tries to spread his legs wider but is trapped by the tight fabric cutting into his thighs, then pivots to instead raise his ass higher. 

"Such a greedy, spoiled noble." Hubert's voice is deep and slow, trickling down Ferdinand's spine and pooling between his thighs. 

Hands grip Ferdinand's ass, spreading him and making him shiver at the cold air on his hole. Ferdinand's other hand grabs his breast, roughly kneading himself.

"Such a soft, fat boy." The cruelty in his tone is bleeding away, leaving only bold adoration in its wake. 

One hand finally grasps his cock, and he bites down on the heel of his hand but his moan still seems to echo down the deserted street.

"Mine to touch, mine to taste, mine to pamper and cherish and adore."

Ferdinand whimpers at the touch, exactly as firm as he likes with no added flourishes. Hubert is done teasing, and Ferdinand is so close his eyes are rolling back when he feels Hubert's breath hot against his ass.

He can barely hear him say "Oh my love, come for me, Ferdinand" but he feels the wet weight of Hubert's tongue dragging against him, and the pressure on his ass, belly, breast and cock are all too much and his vision blurs as he comes, spilling against the underside of his belly, milked by Hubert's fist all the while.

The world is slow to return in the next few moments, Hubert's face still a comforting weight against his ass, when Ferdinand distantly hears him rummage in a pocket. He feels cold for a moment as Hubert slides away. 

Then there's the small, delicate piece of metal on his bare back as he dozes happily and suddenly he's constricted even further for a moment before collapsing on his hands and knees on the plush burgundy rug in the middle of their bedroom.

Hubert helps him to his feet, removes the rucked-up shirt and coats, pulls a soft handkerchief from his pocket and lifts his belly with one hand, cleaning with the other.

Ferdinand lets him do all this, content to wrap his arms around the other man's neck and sigh into his shoulder. When Hubert is finished he pulls Ferdinand in by his hips, turns him around, strokes his tight shoulders and neck firmly while inhaling the scent of Ferdinand's hair. When he is satisfied with tending to Ferdinand's sore muscles, he spins him again to hold him close.

They stand there for a while, Ferdinand not so much minding that his only article of clothing is wrapped around his knees while Hubert is still completely covered. His lover is still hard, cock nudging up at Ferdinand's belly in the gap left by his open coat, and Ferdinand sways gently to give him a little friction while he recovers.

Eventually, Ferdinand pushes Hubert's coat off his shoulders and goes to work undoing buttons and buckles on his waistcoat and shirt.

Hubert doesn't interfere, his hands exploring the soft rolls at Ferdinand's sides and inspecting for any tender spots. Satisfied that layers of fabric had protected him from any scrapes or bruises, he slides his hands down to the curve of Ferdinand's ass and rests there comfortably until he needs to pull back to let his remaining layers fall away.

When Ferdinand leans back to fully remove his pants and boots, then slides to his knees on the rug to face down the bulge straining Hubert's pants, Hubert tries to stop him. He touches his arm softly and murmurs "Ferdinand, you don't have to."

Ferdinand looks up at him as he kneels anyway, doesn't want to say anything because he knows they both have a tendency towards stubbornness and doesn't want to make the argument on his lips about this _never being an obligation to him._ Tries to convey all his emotion in this one look, all his desire and his love and his understanding and his eagerness to make Hubert feel good.

Hubert's pants have been buttoned but his belt is still undone, and Ferdinand slides it away first while he leans in to mouth at the bulge. He sighs softly above Ferdinand as he tosses the belt aside.

Leaving his pants in place for now, Ferdinand moves to Hubert's heavy dark boots, undoing the laces and helping him step out before setting them aside as well and moving to the button of his pants.

Ferdinand loves this part most, after Hubert has worked him over and devoted so much thought into his words and actions while Ferdinand luxuriated in feeling, when Hubert allows him to carefully reciprocate. Hubert's mind is always overcome after these games they play: thinking too much about how harshly he had spoken or touched; feeling guilty for words that could have come from a younger, less in-love Hubert who would have said them with no consideration or consent; punishing himself for the deeds that brought them both so much pleasure.

He tries to right this space in Hubert's mind with his hands, his mouth, his voice. Giving him back the attention he's received, letting Hubert know that no matter what method they use to express it, he always feels only love at Hubert's hands.

The button opens and Ferdinand tugs down pants and shorts and ignores the hard length in front of him for a moment in order to help Hubert step out of his remaining clothes.

When he rises with the intention of taking Hubert apart, he's stopped this time by a finger under his chin, and Hubert asking "The bed? Please."

"Of course, my love."

Ferdinand takes Hubert's hand and rises to lead Hubert to bed, pulling back muted gold sheets and tugging Hubert down so that he is laying back against soft pillows, warm and safe.

He kneels between slender thighs, trailing his hands up to narrow hips and a lovely, delicate sprinkle of black hair on the other man's belly.

"Ferdinand, could we- the other way?"

Hubert's face is flushed and sheepish but Ferdinand smiles softly at him and repositions himself, knowing what Hubert is asking for.

Crawling upwards a bit so he can lay on his side facing Hubert, he maneuvers his thighs around Hubert's hips so that his ass sits against the hardness there, and pulls forward to surround Hubert's face with his breasts. He feels Hubert's groan of relief, lips immediately kissing and nipping the warm, plump flesh wherever they can reach.

Ferdinand's nipples are still sensitive after his own tugging and twisting, and he moans softly and moves his hips to rub contentedly against Hubert's cock though he's too exhausted to come again tonight.

Hubert is enraptured, his hands spreading Ferdinand's cheeks while he thrusts up against their friction and sucks a puffy nipple into his mouth.

He hums deep in his throat while mouthing the tender skin, and Ferdinand hums back, reaching to hold Hubert's head against his chest and stroke his hair lovingly.

"That is so lovely, Hubert. Does that feel good for you?"

Hubert's muffled moan is enough answer, and Ferdinand continues speaking softly while they grind against each other.

"You always take such good care of me. I love you so dearly, Hubert. I was not afraid for a moment tonight when we played our little game, nor embarrassed, other than in the pleasant way that you help me to give into. You were made for me, and I for you."

The movements beneath him are more stuttered, Hubert gasping out a sob of pleasure as he moves to Ferdinand's other breast and Ferdinand's fingers slide through black chest hair to gently roll a pebbled, tiny nipple.

"You are a wonderful man. Clever and kind and considerate and loyal, I- _mmm,_ " he makes a soft noise at Hubert sucking more firmly, "I love how fascinated you are by my body and all its changes. I love the contrast of my softness and your angles- love that you know just the right words to thrill me without allowing me to feel ashamed."

He is surprised by Hubert's voice, usually too far gone at this point to do anything but shake and moan wordlessly.

"You looked- Ferdinand, _oh_ , you have no idea, when- _nn_ \- when I saw you there, what it did to me, I couldn't _breathe_ , couldn't _move,_ of course I was worried as well but- but-"

The words are a little muffled against his chest, but Ferdinand knows he just needs a little encouragement to say more. He shifts to pull one hand away from his behind and move it to the heavy swell at his hip.

There was a time when Ferdinand had shied away from having Hubert's hands anywhere near his belly. When the relationship was young and there were maybe 20 new pounds padding his abdominals from many nights up late snacking while working on a proposal to the council (and few mornings up early to train for another war that seemed less likely by the day), and Ferdinand felt embarrassed that his efforts to control his weight had failed. It had been difficult, at first, to accept that his body would change with age and with new responsibilities, and to accept that everyone who loved him celebrated his softer form and its signaling that he was no longer denying himself the comforts he had earned.

In exchange for so many nights of Hubert laying with him, touching him softly, having him touch himself with the same reverence, whispering kind and sweet things, Ferdinand felt so glad to be able to give him this in return. To care for him like only he knew how- to give him what he needed.

" _Shh_ , dear Hubert, I know. I know, I could see your reaction. It must have been similar to…hm, maybe something like how you feel seeing me wiggle into clothes that are a little too tight? Or when we duck into a deserted hallway or coat closet, the thrill of it all?"

A soft whine interrupts Hubert's panting breaths and he grips Ferdinand's lower belly a little tighter.

"B-both. A combination- flames, you were so-mmph" he gasps and returns to kissing and sucking at Ferdinand's breasts, moving his hips more desperately now.

"Ah, apologies, love. I am questioning when- _oh_ , that is _lovely_ , Hubert- when I should be helping." He trails his hand up Hubert's back, fingers drawing light patterns on his arm and covers the hand on his belly with his own, encouraging it to explore further.

"Come Hubert, squeeze all you would like- indulge in my body and my heart, they are both so soft for you."

Hubert sobs "Oh, Ferdinand, I- oh-" and Ferdinand strokes his cheek, turning his head upward so that he could smile down at him and meet his thrusts a few more times. Hubert is wild now, taking Ferdinand's fingers into his mouth, squeezing every soft part of his lover he can reach.

"Are you ready, darling? You have been so good, Hubert, I love you so much. Come for me, Hubert, come."

"F-Ferdi-" Hubert pants and then moans low, hips stuttering as Ferdinand feels some of his spend land on his ass and thighs. 

"Hmmm, good, that was so good, Hubert. Thank you, darling."

Ferdinand strokes Hubert's hair as he comes down, eventually persuading him to shift so they can look into each other's eyes.

"I love you." Hubert says, his hand resting on Ferdinand's cheek. "I love you so much."

"And I love you, dearest. Do you think Dorothea and Petra made it home safely?"

Ferdinand brings this up tentatively, not wanting their little bubble to burst with outside business but unable to pin down his anxiety once he remembers their companions.

Hubert seems undisturbed, thinking for a moment before replying.

"I'm certain the Brigid delegates can see to themselves. They are two incredibly well-trained killers with the protection of Her Majesty's sanctuary, Ferdinand."

He quirks an eyebrow when Ferdinand responds by laughing softly at himself, his worries washed away, then lets himself be pulled in for a kiss that is devastatingly overdue. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope that was fun! I'm on twitter [@patofbutter306](https://twitter.com/patofbutter306) if you want to hang out and be weird about bellies with me (a riff on my usual more tame end note)
> 
> also comments please i cannot express that enough, if you read that whole thing and enjoyed it then you are my friend now


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